


Daisy Chain

by orbiting_saturn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, F/M, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbiting_saturn/pseuds/orbiting_saturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There’s never a dull moment and where one of them ends, the other begins. It’s like they’re a daisy chain, three rings interlocked in a lovely circle of back and forth and give and take. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daisy Chain

**Author's Note:**

> Written (and very loosely interpreted) for the prompt " _caught in a storm_ " on stop_drop_howl.

When Stiles first proposed terms for “joint custody” (never to be referred to as such in Scott’s presence because it could bring back memories of the bad ol’ days), Allison had been confused and a little bit annoyed. The way she saw it, when Scott was with her, he was with her and when he was with Stiles, he was with Stiles. It didn’t really need to be more complicated than that. 

But, see, Allison has never had a best friend, not the way Scott has Stiles and Stiles has Scott. 

Allison has moved around a _lot_. Her mother once told her that she had to protect herself from attachments. No one should ever matter to her as much as family and when you had family, you didn’t really need friends. That should have been the first sign that her mother wasn’t really all there, but how could Allison know that? She was nine at the time. 

So, Allison resisted Stiles’ suggestion at first, blew him off and made light of it. She and Scott had just gotten back together, they were once again in that first blush of love and she didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Besides, if Scott needed some “quality bro-time”, he would tell her. 

Yeah, that didn’t happen. 

It wasn’t that Scott didn’t need it, it was only that he didn’t tell Allison that he needed it. When they were together, sometimes Scott would get distracted or a little sullen, sometimes he would spend the whole time talking about “this one time, me and Stiles_fill in the blank_”

Allison doesn’t really know Stiles. She knows she thinks he’s sweet and really goofy and that his half-cocked smile is sort of adorable. She thinks he would be better to Lydia than Jackson ever was. She knows that Stiles resents her a little, but loves Scott too much to ever say anything about it. Allison doesn’t know, but she suspects that he’s really lonely when Scott isn’t around. 

It’s all of these things that make Allison reconsider. Not the “joint custody” thing, because let’s face it, that was a stupid idea. Allison decides to go with a “one-big-happy-family” approach instead. It’s how she was raised, after all. Allison is selfish enough not to want to forfeit any of her time with Scott, but she’s generous enough that she’s happy to share it.

“Bring Stiles along,” Allison tells Scott, only every now and then. 

At first, Stiles seems a little uncomfortable, making faces at their couply-ness or fake vomit noises when Allison and Scott kiss. But Stiles takes it in stride. Allison learns that’s something Stiles does a lot. He’s a roll-with-the-punches, go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Before she got to know him, Allison always thought Stiles was a little high-strung, but it turns out he’s only like that during life-or-death situations. 

Every now and then becomes most of the time until Allison starts to get invited to “bro-nights” too and it seems like her diabolical plan has become a major success. 

Allison and Stiles like the same music. Scott is more of a Top 40, cheap beats and empty lyrics kind of guy. He can never remember the names of songs or who sings them. But Allison kind of wants to marry Stiles’ iTunes library, which has everything from Indie to Bluegrass to power ballads of the ‘80s. They make a game of swapping music back and forth over a bubble gum pink flash drive that Stiles knicked from Sasha Walker when they were lab partners. 

Stiles and Scott babble at each other through quotes from obscure movies she’s never seen, but as soon as Allison starts to feel a little left out, Stiles will quote Camus and she’ll be off and running because Philosophy is her new big passion. Scott and Allison share a deep and undying love for the San Francisco Giants, but despite being on the lacrosse team, Stiles doesn’t give two shits about most major sports. 

Scott and Allison always argue over what to eat. Scott likes greasy junk, but she prefers healthy food and only eats lean organic meats. Stiles will binge on trash one night, then feel so guilty that it’s Quinoa salads and tofu for a week before he’s falling off of the wagon again. He’s the only one of them that can make the great food compromise, always ready with a suggestion that will satisfy them all. 

There’s never a dull moment and where one of them ends, the other begins. It’s like they’re a daisy chain, three rings interlocked in a lovely circle of back and forth and give and take. Eventually, Allison starts to feel like she’s dating both of them. 

But there’s the sticking point. Allison _isn’t_ dating both of them, she’s dating Scott. It’s not like she and Scott ever forget that Stiles is there really, but after a while it stops mattering quite as much because Stiles is _always_ there. 

*

The three of them are watching a movie on Stiles’ couch, Allison and Scott at one end and Stiles at the other. The lights are off because Stiles’ swears that’s the only way to watch a horror movie and it’s a little chilly, so she and Scott have an old quilt draped over their laps. 

It starts with snuggling, but a half an hour in, Scott nuzzles into her hair and presses a kiss against her temple. Allison has actually seen this movie already before because it’s one of Scott and Stiles’ favorites, so the next time Scott tilts his head down, she twists her face up for a kiss. 

Scott has a great mouth and he’s always so generous with it, never greedy. He opens up, lets Allison lead the kiss and take what she wants, whether it’s slow, lip-sucking movements or deep tongue-thrusting pushes. 

Allison is hungry tonight, because it’s been a while since they’ve had some alone time. She doesn’t resent Stiles cock-blocking them, because she would rather have him around then not, but sometimes a girl just needs to get off. So Allison takes the kiss a little deeper, turns her body for a better angle and it escalates from there. Now it’s full on making out and Scott slips his hand between her thighs under the cover. 

If they were decent people, she and Scott would take off now, go park her SUV on some out of the way access road. Allison could ride him slow and deep in the backseat, let him rub at her clit until she got off twice. But it’s pouring outside, rain coming down in sheets for the past two hours and neither of them are great at driving in bad weather. 

“Hey, if you guys are going to rub each other off, do you want to at least take it up to my room? One of us is still trying to watch the movie.”

Allison breaks the kiss, face flushed with arousal and a little embarrassment. She presses her face into Scott’s neck, this little urge to hide herself, but Allison can’t help the smile spreading over her face. It’s a little funny how carried away she got, how easy it was to just do what she wants, despite Stiles’ presence. Hell, maybe even because of it. 

Scott huffs a laugh and lets his head fall back against the couch. “Whatever, Stiles, you’re just jello ‘cause you weren’t invited.”

There’s the shortest moment of silence from the other end of the couch, so short it would go unnoticed to most people, but Allison has felt this before and it’s a little tense, a little bit fraught. 

“I’m not jealous. That place is disgusting. Everyone in there has a mustache.”

“You’re totally jello. You’re lime green jello and you can’t even admit it to yourself.”*

It’s complete nonsense, so they’re probably doing their movie babble again, but Allison hates it when Scott hits a little too close to home with his jokes. He doesn’t mean to, she knows he doesn’t, but Scott isn’t great with subtle nuances and this is an elephant in the room that’s been threatening to trample them since they started this three’s-company thing. 

When she wriggles away from him, Allison makes a point to elbow Scott in the ribs, ignoring his surprised ‘oof’ as she scootches her way over to Stiles’ end of the couch. 

“Don’t be a jerk,” Allison chastises, grabbing Stiles’ arm to pull it around her shoulders. She cuddles into him, enjoying the fresh boy scent of him. Whatever deodorant or cologne he wears, Allison likes it. Scott can’t wear anything scented because it irritates his werewolfy nose. “Maybe I _want_ to invite Stiles. What do you think of that, huh?”

Stiles squeezes her shoulders in a one-armed hug, looks down at her and Allison can see that cocky half-smile tilted at her in the lights of the TV. It’s pretty, Stiles all fine-boned and sharp in the shadows, slender and wicked. Scott might be more toned, but he’s softer than Stiles in a lot of ways. Allison might be a little like Heidi Klume, because she likes it soft and hard. 

“Yeah, bro,” Stiles says to Scott, but he’s still smiling down at Allison. “You should totally let me borrow your girl. She smells like sugar cookies and I always share my baked goods with you.”

It’s a little crass, Stiles’ sense of humor always is, but he gives Allison an exaggerated wink-wink and leer. He wants to make sure she knows he’s teasing. But one of the things Allison has learned about Stiles is that all of his lies always have a hint of truth mixed in. 

Scott laughs and Allison turns her head to see him carelessly sprawled in the corner of the sofa. He’s all relaxed lines, unconcerned and happy. Things have never been this uncomplicated for them. “Dude, you think I have any say? She’s totally the boss of me, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Um, excuse me!” Stiles protests. “ _Co-boss_. _Vice_ boss, boss-in-waiting, maybe.”

Allison laughs, not because it’s funny, but because Stiles _needs_ someone to laugh at his stupid jokes and it can’t always be Scott. His next smile for her is small and pleased, more real than any of the others. Allison is full of so much warmth that she doesn’t even try to curb her urge, just tips up and kisses Stiles on the tip of his ski-slope nose. “You’re adorable.”

“Hey! I thought _I_ was the adorable one,” Scott says and when she looks, he’s fake pouting with his arms crossed over his chest.

“No way, man. You get to be sexy or studly or whatever else she calls you when you’re all in flagrante delicto. Let me keep adorable. I can totally own adorable.”

“Now, girls,” Allison breaks in, letting her hand rest lightly on Stiles thigh. “You’re both pretty in your own ways.” 

Scott laughs again, all full-bodied in that way that makes her stomach clench. She throws a grin his way and he’s smiling so damn wide she can almost see his back teeth. Allison loves seeing Scott this happy. 

Scott’s eyes flick down to where she’s touching Stiles, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin pajama bottoms he’s wearing. Scott quirks up one brow, not questioning, but more like a dare. It’s like permission or something, Allison isn’t sure, but she knows what she wants and she knows that she’s gonna. If she read the signals wrong, she’ll deal with it.

When Allison turns her eyes back to Stiles, he’s looking down at his lap, at her fingers curved gently around him. His mouth is open, it’s always open, lips parted and slack, but too finely shaped to look anything but amazing. 

“Um,” Stiles says, eyes still down. There isn’t much light, but there’s enough that Allison can see how his cheeks have darkened on a flush. 

“Stiles,” she prompts, but he doesn’t look up. “Stiles,” she says again and finally lifts her hand off of his leg, just to turn his head towards her, fingertips gentle on the curve of his jaw. 

Stiles looks stripped bare, eyes glossy under his heavy lids. 

“Let me,” Allison demands. 

She doesn’t let him say anything, is already kneeling up on the sofa to throw a leg over him, kissing him in the very same move. Allison cups his face in her hands, feels the rough edges of his bare stubble and tastes him. 

It takes a few beats before Stiles startles back, breaks the kiss and turns straight away to Scott. 

Allison doesn’t watch their exchange, that’s all for them, so instead she trails her lips down Stiles’ neck where it’s been bared by the turn of his head. She tongues lightly at the hard jut of his collarbone, tastes his clean skin with just a little sweat-salt. “Let me,” she says again, for Stiles’ ears only and scrapes her teeth against him. Stiles is so damned biteable, she wants to just sink her teeth into him. 

Whatever Scott silently said to Stiles must have been favorable, because he grabs hard at her hips, turns back to attack her lips. Stiles kisses Allison like he’s trying to sink himself into her, unpracticed tongue forceful and demanding, with just an edge of desperate. It’s nothing like any kiss she’s ever had, not even the kind she ever thought she’d like, but it’s _so_ Stiles and that makes it awesome. 

They kiss for a long time, learn each other, mouth and tongue and hands, all of those things they don’t already know. Stiles’ thighs are hard against her ass, fingers spread in the dip of her back. There’s just the barest pressure from them, but Allison takes the hint and rocks against him, finds him hard between her legs. 

Allison can’t hold back her noises, coming deep from her chest and throat because she really wants Stiles to fuck her. He’d probably be a little careless and rough, the way Scott can never risk being with her.

Some day she’ll let him, soon probably, she’ll pull Stiles between her legs and let him bust his virgin nut in her. For now though, Allison wants something else, something she’s dreamed of doing with him.

Allison pulls out of their back-bending kiss, the one Stiles is attacking so hard that he has her spine arched over the brace of his gripping hands. “Wait,” she gasps, pushes him back with a hand to his chest. “Wait, let me just…”

Stiles groans a complaint, but releases her instantly, all reluctant gentleman. 

Allison climbs out of his lap to stand on shaky legs, goes straight for the button on her tight blue jeans. For the first time since she got her mouth on Stiles, Allison risks a look at Scott. Her boyfriend is just slouching back against the cushions, letting her fool around with his best friend and, apparently, palming his dick through his jeans. 

It makes Allison’s cunt throb, already slick from Stiles grinding against it, but Scott getting off on it is strangely exciting. 

Allison skins out of her jeans quickly, leaving her in a pair of damp, blue panties. She climbs back on top of Stiles’, deeply satisfied by the awestruck look on his face. He’s so hard that he’s tenting the front of his loose pants and that does hurt either. 

“Come here,” Allison says, both hands dragging him in by the neck. 

They kiss again, but Allison doesn’t let it get away from her this time. Instead it’s slower, deeper, more intense as she rolls her hips, grinds her pussy into the stiff line of his dick. She thinks she could probably make him come just like this. Another time maybe. 

Allison pulls his hand off of her bare thigh, drags it up and slurps two of his long, lovely fingers into her mouth. She doesn’t need them wet for what she wants, but she wants to tease a little, let him see what she’ll give him in return.

Stiles is panting and shivering, watching her suck his fingers while he rocks his hips up mindlessly, even after Allison tilts his pelvis to take the pressure off his dick. She pulls off of his fingers with a slick pop and guides his hand down. “Come on,” Allison breathes eagerly. 

Pulling the crotch of her panties to one side, Allison slides the tips of Stiles’ fingers against her slit, teases, lets him feel how wet she is for him. She rocks her hips against him, watches Stiles watching her. Allison tortures herself for a few seconds, but can’t take much of it, too wound up and eager to come.

Finally, _finally_ Allison gets Stiles’ fingers in her, long and slender and crooking easily in just the right way. 

“Oh, god. Oh, god, Stiles, you’re _fingers_ ,” she groans, rolls her hips eagerly and lets go of his wrist, trusting him to keep the right angle. 

Allison gets one hand pressed into Stiles’ chest, one hand shoved in her panties to flick at her clit while she rides Stiles’ fingers. She does it fast and artlessly, not even bouncing, just shoving her cunt against the slim length in her that’s just enough to get off on. 

“Fuck, fuck,” she gasps, palms Stiles’ cheek, catches her thumb on his lower lip. It’s rising in her, tightening her belly and making her thighs shake. It can be hard for her to get off like this sometimes, but not now. Every now and then, her flickering fingers glance against Stiles’ palm because he’s knuckle deep in her. 

“Are you going to come?” Stiles rasps out, a little manic and surprised, like he can’t believe he could do this to her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just, Stiles, please.”

Stiles seems to get it, without her having to say, and starts moving his wrist, thrusting in so she doesn’t have to ride him so hard. He fucks her hard with his fingers and takes the initiative to shove a third one in. 

That does it, that little bit of extra girth, _almost_ as good as having his dick and Allison jerks. She comes against his hand, fingers fast on her clit and thighs squeezing Stiles’ hips. 

“Oh, fuck. I can feel it. Allison, fuck.”

She was going to leave it at that, she really was, but Stiles’ voice cracking like that, the knot of his fingers moving so sloppily against her, Allison rides out one more orgasm, just because she can and maybe wants to show off a little. Oh, the wonders of being a girl.

When she’s done, Allison tugs at Stiles’ wrist, urges him out of her and lets the crotch of her panties snap wetly into place. Stiles looks wrecked, lips shining in the dim TV light, sweating a little and probably ready to go off like a rocket. 

Allison melts out of his lap, kneels between his legs on the scratchy carpet. She could have just stuck her hand in his pants, got him off with a few quick tugs, but Allison never goes back on her promises. They get his cock out of his pants together, just push and pull his pants beneath his balls. 

Stiles is leaking like crazy, way more than Scott usually does, but Allison finds it flattering. His dick is also a little longer, slimmer and smoother, just one prominent vein bisecting the underside jaggedly. Allison follows it with her tongue, all the way from base to tip. She takes as much as she can in one go. It’s not much really, but more than enough for Stiles to cry out, thrash his hips a little helplessly. 

Allison lets Stiles come in her mouth, not something she usually enjoys, but she wants it to be special, a good first time for him. It’s a struggle, choking down the bitter load, but worth it when Stiles strokes his hand gratefully over her hair. 

She keeps sucking for a little too long if Stiles’ hiss is anything to go by, but Allison likes the feel of a dick going soft in her mouth. 

When Allison finally pulls off, she rests her head on Stiles’ thigh, feeling completely spent and boneless, but glowing a little from the good sex and a job well done. She peels open her heavy eyelids, smacks her sticky lips and looks over at the muzzy shape of her boyfriend, still a couch cushion away. Allison hums and smiles in what she’s sure must be a dopey sort of way. 

“You need a hand, baby?” she asks, because even if she’s a completely beat, Allison never leaves Scott in the lurch. 

“No, I, uh, I got it handled,” Scott replies, voice high and crackly. 

So, Allison figures, Scott jerked himself off watching them. Next time, she wants to watch him, divide her attention a little more evenly. Divide Stiles’ attention a little more. Maybe…hmm, maybe they could…

“Hey, have you two ever jerked each other off?” Allison asks. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> * "you’re just jello ‘cause you weren’t invited.”
> 
> “I’m not jealous. That place is disgusting. Everyone in there has a mustache.”
> 
> “You’re totally jello. You’re lime green jello and you can’t even admit it to yourself.”  
> (Jennifer's Body, 2009)


End file.
